


a solitary act of self-giving service

by insectoid_demigoddess



Category: Dankira!!! - Boys be DANCING!- (Video Game)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, feet/legkink, powered by sheer angry horniness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 06:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19785577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insectoid_demigoddess/pseuds/insectoid_demigoddess
Summary: Seito opens with the first item on his sizable list of advantageous reasons, knowing well enough the importance of putting one’s best foot forward. “I promise to clean up afterwards. Bon won’t have to lift a finger.”From behind the SHIDO Cosmetics catalogue, Bon says, “Sei-kun isn’t after myfingers, anyway.”





	a solitary act of self-giving service

**Author's Note:**

> \- the part of the foot that faces downwards when standing is called 'planum'; the part that faces upwards is called 'dorsum'  
> \- phalanges is the term for the bones of the digits of the foot  
> \- seito and soma call mikki 'bon' out of love

Seito opens with the first item on his sizable list of advantageous reasons, knowing well enough the importance of putting one’s best foot forward. “I promise to clean up afterwards. Bon won’t have to lift a finger.”

From behind the SHIDO Cosmetics catalogue, Bon says, “Sei-kun isn’t after my _fingers_ , anyway.” 

For how flippant Bon had sounded, it could very well have been a dismissal - a callously indirect side-step of Seito’s earnest intentions - except for how Bon’s legs stay relaxed across Seito’s lap. Hope flutters low in Seito’s stomach, snug beside the embers of arousal fanned steadily by his present predicament.

“Not that your fingers aren’t lovely,” Seito pauses to appreciate said digits as they flip a page and fold a corner of the catalogue before continuing, “but it’s only that, at today’s practice, Bon completely stole all my attention.”

The medley of works seemed designed to drive Seito mad: the music called for focus on localized, precise movements, while the examination of forms highlighted the way a step was precluded by the shift of a joint or compounded by the lightning-quick succession of stances. 

Bon, ever adamant to prove his skill, had performed beyond commendation - moved with fluid grace and power - pushed himself until sweat made the shirt on his back nearly translucent, a second skin stuck to planes and lines Seito knew intimately well - 

Standing off to the side, supposedly involved in his own practice, Seito had been struck breathless. Likely, it was the lack of oxygen to his brain that led to the birth and sustained vision of a fantasy best unspoken in civil company. Reiji’s concerned inquiry about his health had sounded muffled, lost in the rush of blood around Seito’s ears, but his reassurances were as practiced as always, despite the dryness that had overcome his mouth and paralyzed his tongue.

“Think of it as a massage,” Seito ventures. Pointedly, he refrains from caressing the firm muscle of Bon’s calves even as his hands rested over them. “I wouldn’t dream of taking my pleasure before giving you yours.”

It would be a near thing - so conflated were the two that Seito rarely initiated such intimacies without Sōma to guide them - but if there was anything that would win out against his desires, it would be Bon’s satisfaction.

( _still, watching Bon come undone was its own reward too._ )

“It’ll just tickle,” Bon counters, pouting as he peers over the top of the catalogue. Another potential rejection, but Seito holds his hands and the demure expression of plain adoration on his face steady - and after a moment, the catalogue is set aside. “Sei-kun is unfair, using that face!”

Seito, entirely guilty of the allegation, tilts his head and looks at Bon from under his lashes. The accusatory expression on the face Seito adores without end shifts minutely into something more fond - was it that searching green gaze? or the way Bon’s pursed lips twitched at his supplication? Whatever the case, there was also surrender there, but Seito knows better than to call it submission.

His gratitude has barely lifted itself from his tongue before Bon pulls his legs from Seito’s lap and scoots pointedly to make a space between them; as he crosses his arms, he levels a considering stare on Seito, not unlike how Seito knows he’d been doing not too long before their conversation.

Disproportionately, Seito feels his pulse quicken at being on the receiving end of Bon’s focused gaze, and at the sight of Bon’s legs drawn up and away from him, the cotton of his lounge pants stretched over his hips and thighs and fitted around his ankles.

“I have conditions, though.”

Bracing himself, Seito leans close - but not close enough to touch, not when permission had yet to be granted unto him - and says, “Anything for you.”

“Tell me what you want to do.”

The butterflies in Seito’s stomach have flown, trapped in his throat as a wadded lump of ill-concealed anticipation. His breath hitches, “A… A general review, or…?”

Bon quirks a perfect eyebrow and taps the heel of his foot against Seito’s forehead. “Details, Sei-kun.”

 _Details_ , his beloved says. Heat coils and burns white-hot in Seito, low at the crux of his groin. and his eyes flicker between the tilt of Bon's chin and the curve of bone at his ankle, visible now as Bon's foot remains propped against his forehead. Seito licks his lips; this close, he can smell the peppermint foot scrub Bon had recently been gifted with. 

Deliberately, he clenches his hands into fists and settles them on his lap. Bon watches the solitary rise and fall of his shoulders as Seito heaves a deep breath and says, "I want to kiss your feet."

Though Seito's tongue feels heavy in his mouth - is it a butterfly or a flower threatening each hiss of air as his last? - he forges on, meeting Bon's eyes without shame: "From the tips of your toes to where your tendons jump above your ankles, I'll put my lips there and show you what words can't ever hope to express."

Bon twitches, and the exact shade of pink that Seito greedily consumes in desserts and off Sōma's lips colors his cheeks - even now his reactions are guileless and reflexive and Seito drinks in the sight to feed his unwavering arousal. Bon's foot leaves him, only for the pair of them to settle on his lap, a concession for his obedience, and reverently, Seito cups the soles of Bon's feet and lets his thumb caress the incline from the joints at his ankles towards his phalanges.

His awareness narrows, the weight in his throat drops to the middle of his chest, a twisting, writhing thing that mimics the dizzying reverberations of the pounding of his heart. He could spend hours using his lips and tongue on the planum of Bon's feet before even daring to bite at his ankles and - were he allowed - further upwards.

Bon tells him to go on, unknowingly worsening the knot of roots tying Seito's tongue still. He lifts his left foot and puts it on Seito's shoulder, barely needing more than a nudge to send him backwards against the opposite armrest; his right foot he rests on Seito's stomach - _waiting_ , with his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his vivid green eyes trained on Seito. 

"I want you to keep talking, Sei-kun," and here it arrives, the moment that Seito has always been ill-prepared to handle: the weight of Bon's foot on his stomach tips the scale at the opposite end of which sits the root of Bon's shakily enunciated words, and Seito, baseless creature of indulgence as he is, struggles to keep the balance.

When Seito continues to simply breathe, half expecting ashes of butterfly wings to puff out his mouth, Bon moves his left foot to just under Seito's chin and uses the neatly manicured nail of his big toe to tip his face up. Dimly, Seito wishes for Sōma's presence, at the same time he reaches up to grasp Bon's ankle with one hand while the other holds his foot by the in-step, the position allowing him to press a fervent kiss there. With a bevy of wings beating in his ribcage, Seito's tongue darts out to lick a wet line over the middle of the bottom of Bon's foot, his mind going white and static at the taste. 

Bon whines, " _Sei-kun_ ," and Seito has to force himself to _still_ , to scrape at the hollows of his mind where only Bon's presence reverberated for words that would please the boy whose simple touch drove him mad with desire.

"Step on me," he begs, and finding nothing else that could encompass his wants, Seito dares to open his legs and bare the extent of his adoration. Bon moans as he grips the back of the couch and the edge of the seat, anchoring himself before he presses his foot against the shape of Seito's cock straining against his slacks; he fits the sole at the crux of Seito's legs and the flat of his foot over the length of his zipper and Seito groans against the soft skin right under the joints of Bon's toes.

Shuddering, Seito grinds against Bon's foot and gasps, " _Harder_ ," as he bites into yielding flesh and taut skin, as his hand pushes up the fabric of Bon's lounge pants and covets the swell of his calves. The soft sound Bon muffles into his own hands barely registers to Seito, whose awareness has once again tapered into the sensation of Bon's foot as it exerts pressure on his cock. 

Seito's senses have clouded over: with his mouth he gnaws and tongues over joints and finite planes of skin, and with his fingers he stretches fabric to reach quivering thighs. If he speaks, he knows no words could be intelligible, but he hears Bon keening, hears a sob or a gasp - and this, some part of him that hangs on a thread insists, this is _important_ -

The planum of Bon's foot is warm against his cock, even through the restrictions of cloth; he thrusts against it and is met with resistance forceful enough that tears spring at the corners of his eyes. He could end like this, Seito thinks, the flutter of butterfly wings leaving his chest in fits and bursts of air. Through the haze of almost-tears he sees Bon's hand reaching between his own legs and the sight pulls the line of him taut, wedged against Bon's perfect right foot.

"I bet that would feel better if he had stockings on," a familiar, equally-adored voice muses - and as soon as Seito's scattered mind provides the image to match the words whispered against his ear, he comes, the force of it tearing a sob from his chest. 

Seito bites down on the prominent bone of Bon's phalange and receives the knee-jerk kick to his softening cock with a dazed smile.

* * *

The world trickles into focus, but slowly.

Foremost, Seito relishes the feeling of rising from what seemed like a long, deep sleep, and what he knew to be just a few moments of complete loss of consciousness. Next, he lets his gaze fall on Bon, who sits across him still, but who now is pressed into the armrest by Sōma, breaths mingling in a flurry of kisses. Lastly, he shifts his hips against the foot still pressed indulgently to him. 

Bon breaks their kiss, but it's Sōma who turns to fix a weighted stare on Seito. They hold each other's gaze for a moment, before Sōma sighs - an unwitting echo of Bon's earlier capitulation - “Did you enjoy yourself, Seito?”

Smiling, he nods, before nuzzling against the foot held affectionately to the side of his face. Bon huffs, “You promised you'd clean up, Sei-kun,” and though the words are an admonishment, Seito only smiles wider as he sits up and leans over Bon, hands unerringly finding the elastic of Bon’s lounge pants. 

As he pulls Bon’s pants down, Sōma murmurs above him, “My, he's such a spoiled thing, isn't he?” and Seito delights in Bon's answering giggle, “At least he keeps his promises!”

**Author's Note:**

> \- seito legkink dankira possessed me bc i was staring at the mangpark page of akira shido etoile's young boy legs and now i have to live with the fact that i kin him  
> \- i want to thank two people for putting up with my feet/legkink frothing for the past two days and they are: my vegipot qbby, full of love and correct assumptions abt my kinning habits, and jo, who may or may not have foot fetish now bc of this. neither of them even go here, they just have the astounding luck of knowing me, previously only a forearm-fetishist


End file.
